Snaked Out Of Reason
by 0nce Upon My Story
Summary: The wizarding world knew and feared him as Lord Voldemort, the darkest of all dark wizards. But he wasn't always that way. Once upon a time, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a schoolboy who longed for nothing more than acceptance and a place where he could truly belong. (Written for authorpath's challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum.)
1. Chapter 1- A Man Called Albus Dumbledore

**A/N: this fic was written because of my own writer's curiosity - a kind of professional _what-if, _if you will. I saw the challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum (courtesy of authorpath) and just couldn't get the idea out of my head. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, and I never will - unless I miraculously turn into J.K. Rowling one of these days. I'll be sure to let everyone know if this happens, but in the meantime, I still have to put up these pesky disclaimers. Ah well.  
**

**Now, may I present _Snaked Out Of Reason - _an exploration of Lord Voldemort's character as a child, and how similar he was to Harry. This is my take on how the boy became the Dark Lord. I hope you enjoy it.**

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"MRS COLE!" he heard Milly Meeks yell, and winced as he dropped the book he was reading on his bare toes.

"Ow, ow," he muttered under his breath, not bothering to listen as Mrs Cole swept past his door muttering something about iodine.

He vaguely heard two sets of footsteps entering the building, and the door slamming, but he didn't pay these happenings much heed, absorbed as he was in his book.

Then somebody knocked sharply on the door. "Tom? You've got a visitor. This is Mr Dumberton – sorry, Dunderbore. He's come to tell you – well, I'll let him do it."

Mrs Cole entered the room, followed by the most extraordinary-looking man Tom had ever seen. He was wearing a flamboyant plum-coloured suit and a ridiculous velvet top hat.

"How do you do, Tom?" the man asked, walking forwards and extending his hand for Tom to shake.

He hesitated, but caught Mrs Cole's sharp gaze and obediently took the man's hand. Mrs Cole gave him a curt nod, then left the room, drawing the door shut behind her.

The strange man drew up a chair beside Tom's bed and sat down. Tom got a fleeting and unpleasant feeling of déjà vu – hadn't Dr Chilton sat just like this when he had been _inspecting _Tom?

"I am Professor Dumbledore," the man said calmly.

Tom jerked away, the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach intensifying. " Professor? Is that like _doctor? _What are you here for? Did _she _get you in to have a look at me?"

Unable to help himself, he flung a hand angrily towards the door Mrs Cole had recently left from. _How dare she send another one? There's nothing wrong with me!_

"No, no," the man – Dumbledore? what a strange name – said with a reassuring smile. Tom felt the rage build in his stomach.

"I don't believe you!" he cried. "She wants me looked at, doesn't she?"

Looking directly into the man's eyes, he summoned that feeling of _command _from deep in his mind and spoke as authoritatively as he could. "Tell the truth!"

The man just kept smiling serenely, and Tom felt his composure slip. No-one had reacted like that before – people always did what he said when he used the _command. _

"Who are you?" he asked, hoping his fear wouldn't show in his voice.

"I have told you," the man said, still in that calm, pleasant voice. "My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school – at your new school, if you would like to come."

Tom leapt up from the bed and backed away from the man. _Can't trick me again, _he thought desperately, pressing his back to the cold brick wall.

"You can't kid me!" he shouted to cover his terror. "The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it? _Professor, _yes, of course – well, I'm not going, see? That old cat's the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they'll tell you!"

His voice cracked a little towards the end. _Never again never again never again, _his mind repeated in a terrified refrain.

The man's expression had turned to one of patience and kindness. "I'm not from the asylum," he said soothingly. "I am a teacher and, if you will sit down calmly, I shall tell you about Hogwarts. Of course, if you would rather not come to the school, nobody will force you –"

"I'd like to see them try!" Tom said, in a desperate attempt at bravado.

The man went on as though he had not heard Tom. "Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities –"

"I'm not mad!" Tom shouted. _Why won't anyone believe me?_

"I know you are not mad," Dumbledore said gently.

Tom froze.

"Hogwarts is not a school for mad people. It is a school of magic."

Tom wet his parched lips with his tongue and tried not to gape openly at the man. "Magic?" he whispered.

"That's right," Dumbledore agreed.

"It's… it's magic, what I can do?" Tom could feel a tide of heady excitement rising in his belly, tempered only by his natural caution. _That would explain everything… but what if he's lying, what if –_

"What is it that you can do?" Dumbledore's voice interrupted his frantic thoughts.

"All sorts," he breathed. "I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to."

He was trembling slightly, caught between excitement and fear. He stumbled nervelessly forwards, collapsing on his bed and burying his head in his hands._ Could it be true could it be true could it be true?_

"I knew I was different," he whispered, watching his fingers quivering. "I knew I was special. Always, I knew there was something."

"Well, you were quite right. You are a wizard."

Dumbledore's words, quietly spoken, had the same force as the cruellest of Mrs Cole's shouts.

Tom looked up, feeling pure, wild joy pulse through every fibre of his being. "Are you a wizard too?" he asked, hardly daring to hope.

"Yes, I am."

"Prove it," Tom challenged. _What if it isn't true? What if it's all some elaborate ruse to get me to an asylum? I won't let that happen again, I _won't!

"If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts –" Dumbledore began, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course!" Tom interrupted. _Who cares about the consequences? I need proof, I do, I –_

"Then you will address me as _professor _or _sir," _Dumbledore said firmly.

Tom froze, for a moment horribly afraid that he had ruined his chances of getting out of the orphanage. "I'm sorry, sir," he said in his politest voice. "I meant – please, Professor, could you show me –?"

Some of his sincere eagerness must have shown through in his voice, because Dumbledore smiled and rose to his feet. Withdrawing a thin, pointed stick from his suit jacket, he pointed it at the wardrobe.

It burst into flames.

Tom leapt to his feet, yelping with horror. Everything he owned, everything he treasured, gone, gone –

But then Dumbledore waved the stick – a wand of sorts, Tom supposed – and the wardrobe returned to its original state, complete as though it had never seen a hint of fire.

If Tom hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it.

"Where can I get one of them?" Tom gasped, not bothering to hide his longing as he pointed to the wand.

"All in good time," Dumbledore said. He looked suddenly severe. "I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe."

Tom gave him a startled look, but sure enough the wardrobe began rattling ominously.

"Open the door," Dumbledore ordered.

Tom hesitated, but one glance at Dumbledore's now-stern features was all the incentive he needed. Crossing the room, he threw open the wardrobe door.

On the top shelf, a small cardboard box was shaking and rattling as though there were several starving mice trapped inside.

"Take it out," Dumbledore said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Tom removed the little box, unable to stop his hands from shaking. He had seen this man set fire to his wardrobe and restore it just as easily, who knew what he might do to –

"Is there anything in that box you ought not to have?" Dumbledore's voice was as pleasant as ever, but there was a distinct threat in it now.

"Yes, I suppose so, sir," Tom said at last, deciding that for now, honesty was the best policy.

"Open it," said Dumbledore.

Not meeting the man's eyes, Tom tipped the box's contents onto his bed.

"You will return them to their owners with your apologies," Dumbledore said, still in that casual but dangerous tone. "I shall know whether it has been done. And be warned: thieving is not tolerated at Hogwarts."

Feeling suddenly like a naughty three-year-old, Tom nodded grimly. "Yes, sir," he said in a bland, emotionless voice.

"At Hogwarts, we will teach you not only to use magic but also to control it. You have – inadvertently, I am sure – been using your powers in a way that is not tolerated at our school."

His steady blue gaze pierced Tom's, who looked down uncomfortably.

"You are not the first, nor will you be the last, to allow your magic to run away with you," Dumbledore went on. "But you should know that Hogwarts can expel students, and the Ministry of Magic – yes, there is a Ministry – will punish law-breakers most severely. All new wizards must accept that, in entering our world, they abide by our laws."

"Yes, sir," Tom said again. He fought to keep his face neutral, but inside his head, excitement and fear raged.

"I haven't got any money," Tom confessed, turning to stare frankly up at Dumbledore.

"That is easily remedied," the man assured him, drawing a pouch from his pocket. "There is a fund at Hogwarts for those who require assistance to buy books and robes. You might have to buy some of your spellbooks and so second-hand, but –"

"Where do you buy spellbooks?" Tom interrupted, excitement having won the mental struggle and repressing his natural caution. He snatched the money pouch from Dumbledore and pulled out a fat golden coin, examining it with wonder in his fingers.

"In Diagon Alley," said Dumbledore. "I have you list of books and school equipment with me. I can help you find everything –"

"You're coming with me?" Tom looked up, not sure if he should be pleased or dismayed.

"Certainly, if you –"

"I don't need you," Tom said, his reckless side taking over. "I'm used to doing things for myself, I go round London on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley – sir?"

For a moment Tom worried that Dumbledore would insist on accompanying him to this Alley place, but he did not. Instead, he handed Tom a thick envelope and proceeded to explain exactly how to get to a place called the Leaky Cauldron.

"You will be able to see it, all though the Muggles around you – non-magical people, that is – will not. Ask for Tom the barman – easy enough to remember, as he shares your name –"

Tom couldn't help the little shudder that ran through him.

"You dislike the name Tom?" Dumbledore enquired, watching him shrewdly.

"There are lots of Toms," he muttered sulkily. Then, in spite of his instincts screaming against it, he blurted, "Was my father a wizard? He was called Tom Riddle too, they told me."

"I'm afraid I don't know," Dumbledore said kindly.

"My mother can't have been magic, or she wouldn't have died," Tom reasoned to himself. "It must have been him. So – when I've got all my stuff – when do I get to this Hogwarts?"

"All the details are on the second piece of parchment," Dumbledore assured him. "You will leave from King's Cross Station on the first of September. There is a train ticket in there, too."

Tom nodded. Dumbledore got to his feet and held out his hand again.

Taking it, Tom confessed, "I can speak to snakes. I found out when we've been to the country on trips – they find me, they whisper to me. Is that normal for a wizard?"

This was something that had been bothering him for a long time. He wasn't sure what made him tell Dumbledore – maybe he wanted to make a good impression, after all.

"It is unusual," Dumbledore said at last, "but not unheard of." His piercing blue eyes moved curiously over Tom's face, and he could not help but feel as though he was being studied very thoroughly indeed.

They stared at each other intently for a moment, then the moment was broken when Dumbledore strode towards the door. "Goodbye, Tom," he said, pausing with a hand on the doorknob. "I shall see you at Hogwarts."

Tom collapsed on his bed, chest heaving, certain that his world had just changed forever.

But whether it was a good change or a bad one, he had yet to find out.

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**A/N: that concludes chapter one! I hope you guys liked it - please leave me a review if you did. Any constructive criticisms are welcomed with open arms - I really value what my readers say and think. Just please don't flame - if you hate my work _that _much, no-one's forcing you to keep on reading. But a huge thank-you to those of you who take the time to leave me pleasant and helpful reviews - you have no idea how great you are.**

**See you in the next chapter!**


	2. Chapter 2 - Voices and Visions

**A/N: so I had a question in the reviews about how far I'm planning to take this story. Well, no further than third year, I'm afraid. Sorry if this is disappointing to some of you, but I'm not up for writing the whole of Tom's time at Hogwarts. I'd rather do his first two/three years really well than rush all seven. Also, I feel that thirteen is a pivotal age for decision-making, especially in a character like Tom's. Thirteen, with all the superstition surrounding it, seems to me like exactly the time when Tom would turn into Voldemort, so that's when I'm going to end this fic.**

**Oh, if any of you were wondering, no, I still haven't turned into J.K. Rowling, so I still don't have any claim on her brilliant characters. **

**Now that all of that's out of the way, on to the story!**

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"The _what?" _the portly policeman repeated, looking at Tom with astonishment and more than a little annoyance.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Tom repeated, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. "This man – Professor Dumbledore – told me it was here, but I can't seem to find it."

"That's because it doesn't exist, boy!" the policeman exclaimed. "The _Leaky Cauldron, _indeed – never heard anything like it. Your Dumbledore is obviously a crackpot."

Tom felt that this was definitely not the case, but decided it was better not to say so. "He was probably having me on, sir. Sorry for bothering you."

He plastered a false smile on his face and walked off, leaving the policeman muttering to himself about "cauldrons" and "ridiculous notions nowadays."

Tom couldn't help but think that maybe it _was _all just his imagination. Maybe the policeman was right, and the Leaky Cauldron didn't exist. Maybe _Mrs Cole _was right, and he, Tom, was the crackpot.

Then he felt a soft touch on his arm, and a kind voice spoke in his ear. "Hullo, dear. I heard you talking to that Muggle in the blue suit. It's your first time to the Leaky, isn't it?"

Tom turned around to see a tall, kind-faced woman beaming down at him in a matronly sort of way. He nodded awkwardly.

"Well, not to worry, dear. I'm Mrs Greengrass – I'm a witch, just like Professor Dumbledore is a wizard. I can show you how to find the Leaky Cauldron."

Relief flooded through Tom's mind. _I was right! I was right all along! I'm not crazy!_

Returning Mrs Greengrass's smile, he nodded thankfully, hoping that his sincerity shone through into his expression.

Evidently it did, because Mrs Greengrass patted his arm, her smile softening. "Right this way," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him across the busy road.

He squirmed a little, uncomfortable with the easy motherly touch, but let it be without protest. After all, she was helping him – the last thing he wanted now was to offend her.

Her hand slipped from his shoulder when they reached the other side of the road, pulling a wand not unlike Dumbledore's from her handbag. "The Leaky Cauldron is right… here." She pointed with her wand, and he was astonished to see a small pub there.

"How did I miss that?" he asked, gaping up at the large _The Leaky Cauldron _sign that hung above its door.

Mrs Greengrass shrugged sympathetically. "You have to know exactly what you're looking for, or have somebody point it out for you. That way the Muggles – er, the non-magical people – don't find it."

Tom nodded, recalling Dumbledore mentioning something like this in his brief visit. "That makes sense," he said.

They entered the small pub together, Mrs Greengrass placing her arm around his shoulders again. He found it surprisingly comforting, especially as it formed a sort of shield from all the stares he was getting.

"So, dear, I assume you're new to Hogwarts?" Mrs Greengrass asked kindly, steering them towards the bar and rapping it to attract the attention of the barman.

"Yes. I…I didn't know magic even existed until Professor Dumbledore brought me my letter," he confessed.

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Mrs Greengrass assured him. "There are plenty of people like that at Hogwarts – Muggle-borns, we call them."

Tom felt a small spike of bitterness. He _wasn't _Muggle-born, he just knew it. There was magic in his family somewhere, he had no doubt.

But he couldn't make himself say as much to Mrs Greengrass – not when she had been so kind to him.

"Hello, Mrs Greengrass," the barman's voice startled him from his thoughts. "What can I do for you today?"

"Nothing for me, Tom," she answered politely, and Tom felt a small jolt of surprise at his own name before remembering that Dumbledore had mentioned this, too.

"The young gentleman, then? How may I help you?" he asked, turning his face to Tom's.

"I'm Tom Riddle," he introduced himself, extending a hand politely. "I'm going to Hogwarts this year."

Recognition sparked in the barman's eyes. "Ah, of course! Dumbledore said something about another Tom. It's a pleasure to meet you, young sir, and a warm welcome to the magical world!"

Tom nodded along, smiling in all the right places and shaking the other Tom's hand firmly.

"Well, Tom, if you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I'll be along to take you to Diagon Alley just as soon as it's time for my lunch break."

"You don't have to burden yourself, Tom," Mrs Greengrass interjected. "I'm going to Diagon Alley anyway to meet Gareth and Jeff, and I don't mind taking this charming young gentleman along."

"Are you sure, Miranda?" the barman asked.

"Of course!" she said cheerfully, reaching for the younger Tom. "That is, if you don't mind, dear."

"Not at all!" Tom hastened to assure her. "Thanks a lot, Mrs Greengrass."

"It's my pleasure," she said, standing up and guiding him to the back door of the small pub.

Tom was confused. Where on _earth _were they heading? This was just a small backyard, with several big bins lined up against a wall at the other end of the door.

Mrs Greengrass walked briskly over to the bins, reaching for her wand again. She murmured something under her breath and tapped a specific brick.

At once, the brick began to quiver and wriggle in the most extraordinary way. A small hole appeared in its middle, growing bigger and bigger every second –

A second later, they were facing a large marble archway, through which a cobbled street filled to the brim with robed witches and wizards was visible.

Tom openly gaped, and Mrs Greengrass turned to him with a smile. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Tom."

Placing a hand on the small of his back, she pushed him gently through the archway. Twisting back, Tom saw it shrink back into the wall and disappear as though it had never been there.

He faced forward again, not bothering – or even able – to hide his amazement. Mrs Greengrass's smile grew, and she led him further into the alley with a pleased, rather smug expression on her face.

Tom turned his head this way and that, trying to look at everything at once. Shop titles like _Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, Potage's Cauldron Shop _and _Eeylops Owl Emporium _were among the most eye-catching, but Mrs Greengrass pulled him away with a brisk "we'll get to that later, dear, first we need to get you some money."

He followed her willingly enough, and stopped dead when they rounded the next corner in the twisty road.

In front of them was a massive building built entirely of white marble, towering magnificently over the other shops. _Gringotts Wizarding Bank _was emblazoned across its burnished bronze doors.

He followed Mrs Greengrass without protest, gaping up at the building in awe. He spared a passing glance at the diminutive man in a scarlet-and-gold uniform standing at the door, then jerked back as he realised –

"It's rude to stare," Mrs Greengrass chastised, pulling him past the strange creature with an apologetic sort of smile. "Goblins are very touchy creatures – you don't want to get on the wrong side of one!"

They passed into a small entrance hall, and Tom saw another set of doors – silver this time – at its very end. As they crossed the room, though, he realised that there were letters engraved into the stone floor.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors,_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Disturbed, Tom moved on, rather to his own surprise clutching Mrs Greengrass's hand. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, then moved on through the silver doors.

They now found themselves in a vast marble hall lined with countless marble counters, each staffed by a goblin. Mrs Greengrass made directly for one, pulling Tom along behind her.

"Good morning," she said briskly to the goblin seated there. "I'm here with Tom Riddle, an entrée for the Hogwarts student fund."

The goblin surveyed her from down his long nose. After a period of condescending silence, he reached into his desk and withdrew a piece of rather old-looking parchment.

"Riddle, Tom. That seems to be in order," he said, seeming extremely disappointed that this was the case.

Mrs Greengrass nodded impatiently. "Well, then, can we go?"

The goblin's already nasty face turned even more so as he puckered up his lips in a high-pitched whistle. Another, equally unpleasant-looking, goblin appeared and made a sharp bow to Mrs Greengrass.

"This is Nagnok. He will take you to the Hogwarts vault."

"Thank you," Mrs Greengrass said curtly, reaching for Tom's hand again and leading him after the goblin.

Tom was surprised to find himself in a low, stone tunnel lit by flaming torches – he had been expecting more marble. At Nagnok's whistle, a small cart came whizzing up a set of tracks and stopped in front of the three of them.

"After you," Nagnok said, grinning in a rather disturbing fashion. Feeling more than a little unsettled, Tom stepped into the small cart.

As soon as Nagnok clambered in, it began moving off at top speed. More alarmingly still, the goblin didn't appear to be steering at all.

Mrs Greengrass, however, did not look at all worried, so Tom reasoned that this was a normal occurrence. He couldn't help but wonder what would happen if something went wrong, and –

Then the cart stopped in front of a wooden door set in the stone wall. "Vault one-hundred and ninety-three," Nagnok said, stepping out of the cart and placing a small golden key in the door.

It swung open to reveal a large pile of coins – gold, silver and bronze. Tom gaped at their strange shapes and sizes.

"Pouch, please," Nagnok said, startling Tom from his reverie. He patted his pockets, and glanced awkwardly at Mrs Greengrass.

She gave him a quick smile and flicked her wand, and a small leather pouch appeared out of thin air and landed on his lap.

"Thanks," he mouthed, handing it to Nagnok.

The goblin counted out precisely fifty of the gold coins, seventeen of the silver ones and twenty-nine of the small bronze ones, dropping them all into the pouch and handing it back to Tom when he was finished.

"Will that be all?" he asked, his sneering tone grating on Tom's nerves.

Evidently Mrs Greengrass felt the same, because she smiled pleasantly and said in a tone of polite inquiry, "No, actually, would you mind taking us down to the Greengrass vault? I'd like to withdraw some gold for Jeff's schoolbooks."

The goblin looked extremely annoyed, but bowed his head and snapped his fingers to get the cart moving again.

The ride took longer this time, and Tom could swear he saw something that looked like fire billowing out of an intimidating-looking cave. But the cart had moved on before he could get a look at whatever was making the fire.

The air was cold and stuffy as they finally drew to a halt next to a vault marked Seven-Hundred and Sixteen. A large coat of arms was emblazoned under the number, with the name _Greengrass _etched into the stone in elaborate, looping script.

Tom stepped out of the cart, followed by Mrs Greengrass and Nagnok. He was vaguely aware of the vault's door opening and Mrs Greengrass saying something, but he was caught up with looking vault seven hundred and seventeen next door to the Greengrass one.

It, two, had a large coat of arms etched above the door – but that wasn't what had caught his attention. What had caught his attention was the _voice _he could hear inside the vault.

He stepped closer, mesmerised by its low, hissing tone, and failed to hear Mrs Greengrass's shout of alarm.

_"Who are you?"_ he whispered, staring at the closed door in fascination.

There was a brief silence, as though the presence inside was carefully considering its answer, then –

_"Open the door and find out, boy."_

_"I can't, I don't have the key," _he tried to explain, but the voice cut him off.

"You _are the key."_

Tom wanted to say he didn't understand. The words were on the tip of his tongue, then some sixth sense stopped him.

_"Open," _he whispered, and to his surprise, it did.

He squinted into the dark vault, trying to make out whatever was inside, then felt something cold brush across his face.

_"Tom Marvolo Riddle," _the voice hissed, _"I name you as my heir."_

Tom thought he saw a flash of green in the vault, but then his legs collapsed beneath him and he crumpled to the floor.

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**A/N: so, I had quite a lot of reluctance with posting this chapter – you know, I wasn't sure about the plot, characterisations, etc – especially Tom's mild fear at entering Gringotts. But thanks to my wonderful sister Amy, who argued that Tom was an _eleven-year-old _not to mention totally new to the wizarding world, chapter two has indeed been posted. **

**If you liked it (or if you didn't and have some suggestions) please do leave me a review! Thanks, and see you guys in the next chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3 - A Whole New World

**A/N: yes, the title of this chapter is an _Aladdin _reference – I just saw the new live-action version (which is absolutely great, by the way) and this is my tribute to it.**

**Since the last chapter ended on such a dramatic note, I won't keep you guys waiting too long – in fact, I just wanted to thank everybody who has taken the time to read this story. This speedy update is specially for all of you.**

* * *

The next thing he knew, Mrs Greengrass was shaking him awake, her terrified blue eyes searching his.

"Oh, thank _goodness," _she said, hugging him tightly.

Tom was too confused to react to the sudden display of affection. "What… Mrs Greengrass, what _happened?"_

"I'm not sure," she said, suddenly stern. "You were just looking around, as any eleven-year-old would, and then you collapsed to the floor."

She said all this with a not-so-subtle glare at Nagnok.

The goblin just sneered at her. "That vault is particularly old and unpredictable, Madam. It's not the fault of Gringotts if some stupid child gets hurt poking around in things he has no right to."

"I'm not stupid," Tom snapped. "And I heard a voice in the vault, that's why I went to look at it."

"You shouldn't leave a vault like that unguarded," Mrs Greengrass said icily. "It's too dangerous. I will be speaking to the Head Goblin about his, mark my words."

The goblin gave her a cold glare. "Gringotts will not be held accountable. All that is done – or _not _done – is in agreement with the wishes of the vault's owner."

"Salazar Slytherin is long dead, as are all his descendants," Mrs Greengrass sniffed. "The staff of the bank should take prudent measures to decrease the level of danger for their patrons."

"Gringotts will not be held accountable," the goblin repeated.

Mrs Greengrass gave him a dark look, placing a protective hand on Tom's shoulder as she helped him up. "We'll see about that."

The ride back to the surface was quicker than the one down – whether that was because Nagnok was annoyed or just because Tom was still feeling thoroughly out of it, he couldn't be sure.

Mrs Greengrass was still muttering to herself as she led Tom out of the bank. Snippets like "disgraceful" and "lack of general safety measures" and "infuriating goblins" gave him a good idea what she meant.

"Do you want to get your school robes so long, dear?" she asked at length, pausing in her resentful muttering to point at _Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. _"I'll meet you at Florean and Fortescue's – that's the ice-cream parlour – right across the street."

"Sure," Tom said, and stepped into the little shop.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling little witch in deep pink robes. She was currently bustling about measuring a small blonde girl.

"Hogwarts?" she asked Tom briskly, flicking her wand at the tape measure, which promptly continued its work by itself. Tom tried not to stare too much and nodded quickly.

"Good, good," she said, and set about fitting him with all kinds of robes.

Tom walked out of the little shop a while later, carrying his new robes and looking around rather nervously. Without Mrs Greengrass there to guide him around, he felt rather lost in this busy street.

He hated the feeling. After all, this was where he was going to _belong, _wasn't it? Why did he feel so _alone, _then?

He felt a huge rush of relief as he saw Mrs Greengrass turn around and wave to him from the ice-cream parlour. She was talking to a tall, bespectacled man and simultaneously scolding a small, freckly-faced boy who was trying to eat the large sundae on the table.

Tom felt a grin split his face at the sight. _That _was the kind of family he had always wanted.

He felt inordinately pleased when Mrs Greengrass welcomed him immediately, telling him the sundae was his and conjuring a bag for his robes. "There you are, dear," she said, hovering anxiously above him. "Eat up, now. This will get you feeling yourself again in no time."

"Did you really hear a voice in old Slytherin's vault?" the small boy who had been trying to steal the sundae asked in an awestruck voice.

Tom nodded, feeling rather important.

_"Wicked," _the boy said. "I'm Jeff Greengrass, by the way." He stuck out his hand for Tom to shake.

"Tom Riddle," he said, returning Jeff's grin.

"Are you going to Hogwarts this year, too?" Jeff wanted to know.

"Yeah," Tom said.

"What house do you reckon you'll get?"

"Er –"

"Of course, no one can know for sure, but I was hoping to get Slytherin. Gabriel – that's my older brother – said he was sure I'd get Hufflepuff – wouldn't that be just awful? I reckon Ravenclaw would be good, too, but I wouldn't want to be in Gryffindor – all brawns no brains is never a good combination, my old dad says."

He paused to take a breath and Tom broke in, feeling incredibly stupid all of a sudden, "Er – what exactly are these…"

The boy slapped a palm to his forehead. "I'm so sorry, I forgot! Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are the four Hogwarts houses. Slytherin is where the clever and ambitious people go, Ravenclaw is for the book-besotted ones, Hufflepuff is for the idiots and Gryffindor is for the big musclebound dummies."

"Jeff!" Mrs Greengrass scolded. "That is an incredibly biased view."

"Sorry," the freckle-faced boy muttered. "It's true, though," he added in an undertone to Tom.

Tom grinned. "I believe you."

Jeff shot a furtive glance at his mother. Seeing that she was busy talking to Mr Greengrass, he spoke eagerly to Tom.

"So, would you like me to tell you some more about Hogwarts?"

"Would you?"

"Course!" the boy said cheerfully. "Mind, I'm going on Gabriel's word, and he might not be the best source – awfully pretentious old codger, he is, and a prefect too – can you imagine being a prefect, how dreadful – but at least he's full of stories about the castle."

Jeff's rambunctious speech teased a grin to Tom's lips. "I want to know everything – even _if _it's from a prefect."

Jeff returned his grin, and launched into a long description of Hogwarts Castle.

When he had exhausted that topic, he began telling Tom about Quidditch, and then about the four founders of Hogwarts, and then some more about Quidditch, and then about some famous witches and wizards, and finally another bit about Quidditch.

So passed one of the most pleasant days Tom had ever had – the highlight of which was, much to his surprise, not the buying of his yew wand, but Jeff's cheery chatter.

_I think I just made a friend, _he realised as he was being seen off by the Greengrass family.

The thought was both vaguely alarming – Tom had never had a real friend, or even wanted one before – and exhilarating at the same time.

_I can tell I'm going to love being a wizard more than anything else, _he thought as he lay in bed that night. _It was meant to be, I just know it._

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**A/N: sorry that this chapter was so short, but I wanted to end it on a more upbeat note than the last one. Please do tell me what you thought – especially about Jeff :)**

**See you guys soon, I hope! **


	4. Chapter 4 - Welcome to Hogwarts

**A/N: my sincerest apologies for the long wait leading up to this chapter – my excuse is that I suddenly got inspiration for another story and had to go write that immediately. I'm sad to say that Snaked Out Of Reason got forgotten just a tiny little bit as October started and I began doing the Inktober Fanfiction Challenge. **

**But I'm back, and (I hope) better than ever, with new ideas galore. This story is far from over, and is definitely not going to be abandoned any time soon (although there might be long gaps between updates because of the aforementioned Inktober Fanfiction Challenge, not to mention my studies.)**

**With no further ado (because I've talked for long enough already) I present to you (at long last) Chapter Four of Snaked Out Of Reason.**

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Tom stood in the centre of the bustling King's Cross station, feeling more than a little apprehensive as he stared at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. It looked uncomfortably solid to him.

Mrs Greengrass's words echoed in his ears again. "Walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. It's just an illusion – the platform's on the other side."

"It's a jolly good illusion, though," Jeff had whispered, and Tom couldn't agree more as he stared at it with a sinking stomach.

"I was terrified when I had to do it the first time," Jeff had confessed in an undertone. "It was five years ago, when we were dropping Gabriel off for his first year at Hogwarts. Gabriel, of course, was proud as anything – kept rubbing it in my face, the beast – and he got through just fine, but that didn't stop me from worrying. I mean, what if I turned out to be a Squib and got stuck with my legs half sticking out of the barrier?

"But it didn't happen. Mum took my hand, and I went through like a knife in butter. It looks awful, I still think so – and Gabriel never stops taunting me about it, the git – but it's not so bad once you actually do it. Great-Grandma Prewett says it's best to do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous, but then I've always thought she was a bit batty. Used to wear a hat shaped like a miniature cauldron, if you can believe that. Who wears a hat shaped like a cauldron? Except for Great-Grandma Prewett, of course."

Tom decided he would be taking Great-Grandma Prewett's advice, because batty or no, it made a lot more sense the longer he stared at that barrier.

It really _did _look awfully solid.

"Excuse me," a girl's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You've been staring at that barrier for the last ten minutes. Are you quite all right?"

He whipped around, an explanation about day-dreaming at the tip of his tongue, but then he saw the owl perched on top of her trunk. This girl was a witch.

"Are you scared of going through?" she continued blithely. "I'm not. Look!"

And just like that, she marched straight through the barrier.

Tom couldn't let some _girl _show him up, so he took a deep breath and followed suit, squeezing his eyes shut when he hit the barrier.

Except… he never hit the barrier. He passed clean through, trolley and all, nearly smacking into the girl, who gave him an irritated glare.

"Watch where you're going, you great lump," she complained. "Boys, _honestly."_

Tom watched her walk off with his mouth agape. No-one had ever called him a _great lump _before – or, indeed, insulted him in any way. It was an entirely new feeling, and not a pleasant one by any means.

"I'm not a great lump," he called after the girl, regretting how stupid he sounded as soon as the words left his mouth.

She spun around, tossing back her long black hair and regarding him with a smirk. "That right? What are you, then?"

"A wizard," he said boastfully.

The girl snorted. "Not yet, you're not. _Boys. _They just _have _to boast about something."

"Hey!" he cried, but he found he was speaking to thin air. The girl had vanished into the thick crowds while he had been too busy gaping at her in astonishment to formulate a retort.

Grumbling to himself, Tom tried to follow, pushing rather ineffectually through the crowds and trying to reach the train.

He made it after a full five minutes of pushing, collapsing gratefully onto his trunk beside the red engine.

"Need some help with that?" a boy's voice asked. Not waiting for a reply, the boy picked up Tom's trunk and loaded it efficiently into the train. "There you are. I'm Gabriel Greengrass, by the way, who are you?"

"Tom Riddle," he said, finding it hard to hide his sudden grin as all of Jeff's stories came to mind.

"Really?" the boy asked, looking at him with new interest. "My little brother's been talking about you non-stop – not at all an unusual occurrence, mind you, I don't think he ever shuts up. He's looking for you on the train, I believe."

"Thanks," Tom said, fatigue gone in an instant as he leapt to his feet. "Where did you last see him?"

"Well, he was starting at the bottom end of the train, and we're at the top, so you should meet somewhere in the middle if you get on now," Gabriel said in a rather bored voice.

Not bothering to thank him, Tom pulled open the door and jumped into the train, making his way as fast as he could down the corridor.

And Gabriel was right. He _did _run into Jeff half-way, talking to none other than the black-haired girl who had insulted him earlier.

" – then I almost got run over by this idiot coming onto the platform," she was saying, folding her arms and glaring at Jeff. "And now you want me to give up my compartment, on top of all that?"

"I'm just saying, it's really selfish of you to have a compartment all to yourself," Jeff said, looking slightly green behind his freckles.

"And I'm just saying it's really selfish of _you _to request something like that when I've had such a terrible day," the girl responded snippily.

"But – hey, Tom! I'm so glad to see you!" Brushing past the girl, Jeff shook hands eagerly, muttering in an undertone, "For Merlin's sake, please help me get rid of her."

"Is this the compartment you've been saving, Jeff?" Tom asked, turning and gesturing at the door behind the girl. "It's in the best section of the train, too!"

"That's not –" the girl began, but Tom pushed past her, dropping down on one of the benches. "Blimey, Jeff, this is a _great _compartment."

The girl's face turned red, then white. "You'll regret that," she warned, turning on her heel and storming away.

"That would be Helaine Sharplin," Jeff said, sticking out his tongue at the girl's retreating back. "Real cow, that one, kick and all. I've never liked her – nobody has, I think."

"I didn't like her at all," Tom said, scowling after the girl. Breaking into a sudden smile, he said, "But I thought I handled the situation rather brilliantly nevertheless."

"Did you _ever," _Jeff agreed, plopping down on the seat across from Tom's. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't arrived."

"Chucked up your breakfast?" Tom suggested, and the two boys burst into laughter.

When they had calmed down somewhat, Jeff brought out a pack of cards and introduced Tom to Exploding Snap. Of course, he thought it was the funniest thing in the world each time one of Tom's cards exploded.

At first, Tom was annoyed and slightly offended by this, but then one of Jeff's cards exploded and he suddenly saw the funny side of it all. They spent most of the journey in stitches, stopping only to eat the basket of sweets Mrs Greengrass had supplied for the journey.

* * *

The train pulled up on a tiny, dark platform – "Hogsmeade Station," Jeff said. "When we're third-years, we'll be allowed to visit the village. Such a shame that's only in three years, isn't it? Bet Gabriel will lord it over us like anything. Blimey, I –"

"First-years! First-years, please follow me!" a new voice called over the chatter of the crowd, cutting Jeff off mid-sentence.

"That'll be Ogg, the gamekeeper," Jeff explained. "Well, Keeper of Keys and Grounds is his actual title, but he's really the gamekeeper. At least, that's what Gabriel says, and we all know that you can't trust Gabriel's word on anything."

Ogg turned out to be a tall red-haired wizard with the longest, most tangled beard Tom had ever seen. "Come on, first-years," he called, already striding briskly along the path.

"Now, if Gabriel's right – which he probably isn't, but you never know – we'll get our first glimpse of Hogwarts when we round this corner," Jeff whispered as they walked.

There was a collective cry of "oooh" as they rounded the bend, because Gabriel had indeed been right. Hogwarts Castle stood magnificently on a hill on the opposite side of a vast black lake.

Ogg gestured to a fleet of small boats along the shore of the lake. "No more than four to a boat, please."

There was a mad scramble as forty-odd students made for the boats, each determined to sit with their new-found friends. But eventually they were all settled in, and the boats began moving of their own accord.

They sailed nearer and nearer to the castle, which looked more and more impressive the closer they came. Even Jeff was lost for words as he stared up at it.

"Heads down," Ogg warned as they approached the cliff on which the castle stood. The boats sailed smoothly through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide gap in the cliff face.

They passed through a kind of underground tunnel, which seemed to carry them all the way under the castle. At last they reached an underground harbour, and stepped out onto a pebbly strip of sand.

They followed Ogg up a passageway in the rock, emerging after a nerve-wracking trek onto a stretch of damp grass in front of the castle.

"Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Ogg said, turning and smiling at the students. Then he heaved up a brass knocker in the shape of the Hogwarts coat of arms and knocked three times on the castle door.

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**A/N: bit of a cliffhanger there, though I'm sure you all know what comes next :)**

**As always, I'd love a review - hearing what you guys think about my work does wonders for inspiration! **

**See you all next Friday, which is (hopefully) when the next chapter will be out. **


	5. Chapter 5 - Sortings and Sorcery

**A/N: I actually updated on time! I can hardly believe it, and neither, I think can you guys. But your eyes are not deceiving you – Chapter 5 of Snaked Out Of Reason is here. Hope you like it!**

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Tom and all the other first-years gasped as the door swung open. A tall, severe-looking woman stood in the doorway, her arms folded over her turquoise robes.

"The first-years, Professor Merrythought," Ogg said with a respectful little nod at the woman. Tom bit his tongue to stop himself from laughing, because this woman looked anything _but _merry.

"Thank you, Ogg," the woman said, and Tom blinked in surprise. Her voice was rich and melodious, without so much a trace of the age that was visible in her silvery hair.

Turning to the crowd of first-years, she said with her eyebrows raised as though she found them all mildly disappointing, "Welcome to Hogwarts. I expect you all to perform to the very best of your capability here."

They all nodded, shifting uncomfortably under her piercing grey gaze.

"The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly," she continued. "Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses."

Tom nodded, relieved that he at least knew this much.

"The Sorting is an indescribably important ceremony. During your time here, your House will be your family. You will have classes with your House, sleep in your House dormitory and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Each of these houses has its own outstanding history, and each has produced inimitable witches and wizards. If you continually strive for the best here at Hogwarts, you may join their esteemed number.

"While you are here at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any misbehaviours will lose your House points. See that you do not become among those unfortunate few who only lose, and never gain, because at the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour."

Giving them all another one of her sharp, severe looks, she concluded, "The Sorting Ceremony will be held in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. Use this time wisely to prepare yourselves."

Her cool grey eyes fastened for a moment on Jeff's muddy shoes, before moving on to every untidy or incorrect piece of uniform in the group.

Tom swallowed, knowing that his own uniform was spotless, but nevertheless feeling unworthy under the professor's sharp gaze.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor Merrythought. "Please wait quietly."

Turning, she strode imperiously away, her sapphire cloak fluttering behind her.

Jeff shifted nervously beside Tom. "She's terrifying, she is," he confided. "I thought my heart dropped all the way to my shoes when she gave me that glare. And then I saw how muddy they were! My shoes, I mean, not my heart. But I don't know how to get them clean! My mum has this nifty little spell for it, but I never can remember the words, and I'm too young to do magic anyway. Do you think they'll –"

"Jeff," Tom interrupted. "Stop rambling."

"Right, sorry," the other boy said, flushing. "I'm just nervous – did you _see _the way she looked at me?"

"I did," Tom said. "Totally terrifying. But, Jeff?"

"Hmm?" he asked noncommittally, rubbing ineffectually at the mud on his shoes.

"How exactly do they sort us into Houses?"

"Well, Gabriel said – but you know what I always say about believing Gabriel – that it's a kind of test. He was pretty mysterious about the whole thing, actually, now that I think about it. Blimey! A test! And in front of the whole school, too!"

Tom gulped nervously again, wracking his brains to try and find something that might impress a bunch of wizards.

But there was nothing! They were all _wizards, _and he was just Tom. A nobody.

"That's going to change," he muttered. "I'm never going to be a nobody again. Soon, the whole world will know my name!"

His heart sinking, he added, "I just have to get through this test first."

He looked glumly at Jeff, who was still trying in vain to get the mud off his shoes. At least Jeff knew something about magic – he, Tom, knew practically _nothing. _

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start," a woman's voice said. Professor Merrythought had returned.

"Form a line – in an orderly fashion, please," she said. "Now, follow me."

They did as they were told, and Tom was grateful to see that he wasn't the only one looking mildly panicked.

They followed Professor Merrythought through a set of double doors and into the Great Hall, where they all stopped in wonder.

Tom had never even imagined such a magnificent place. It was lit by thousands of floating candles and adorned with four massive tables, where the other students were seated. At the top of the hall was another table, also lit by floating candles, where the teachers were gathered.

Professor Merrythought led the first-years up here, lining them up in front of the teachers' table. There was a small, four-legged stool standing in front of them, on which for some reason there rested an old, battered wizard's hat.

To Tom's absolute amazement, the hat twitched and began to sing.

_"I've done this job for years and years,_

_From my perch upon your head,_

_I'll show you where to find your peers,_

_With me you'll find your bed._

_There's nothing in that head of yours,_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_Come on, now, in threes and fours,_

_To hear where you should be._

_If you're brave and daring,_

_Then Gryffindor's for you,_

_And if you're true and caring,_

_Sweet Hufflepuff's here too._

_For the quick of mind and wit,_

_The upper percentile,_

_Old Ravenclaw should be a hit,_

_The place to make you smile._

_And if you're sly and canny,_

_If you'll do whatever it takes,_

_You'll find it quite uncanny,_

_How Slytherin soothes your aches._

_So worry not, just put me on,_

_And where you fit I'll say,_

_Every Mary, Sue and John,_

_Will find their place today."_

Everybody burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables, then became quite still again.

Tom turned to Jeff, and saw the relief he felt reflected in his friend's eyes. "Thank goodness!" he whispered. "All we've got to do is put on a hat. And there I was, worrying that we had to pull a rabbit out of it or something."

"Well, yeah," Jeff agreed. "But I don't feel particularly brave, true, quick of mind or sly at the moment. I feel a bit nauseous, actually. Shame it didn't mention a house for people who just really wanted to get it all over with."

Tom had to agree. He couldn't stop the flutter of nerves that rose in his stomach – what if the Sorting Hat declared that it had all, in fact, been a mistake, and that Tom was to go back to the orphanage?

He was distracted from these rather depressing thoughts as Professor Merrythought stepped forward, grasping a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, please step forward and place the Sorting Hat on your head," she instructed the first-years.

They all nodded, and Tom felt his stomach knot, the butterfly flutters of nerves turning into galloping horses.

"Our first new student is… Aarle, Emilia."

A slender, graceful girl with long dark hair stepped forward, settling herself on the chair with effortless elegance. Tom found himself wishing that he could look that composed when it was his turn.

After a short pause, the Sorting Hat cried out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left burst into applause, and Emilia smiled and made her way down to sit with them.

Next was "Adamson, Jeremy," who got sorted into Hufflepuff, then "Avery, Christopher," who went to Slytherin.

The circle was completed when "Ballamore, Phillis" became the first Gryffindor.

After about five more names, Professor Merrythought got to "Greengrass, Jeffrey."

Swallowing nervously, Jeff stepped forward.

"Good luck!" Tom whispered as he passed him.

"Thanks! Fingers crossed I'm not in Hufflepuff," his friend whispered back.

Dutifully, Tom crossed his fingers as the Sorting Hat pondered.

It took a rather long time deciding, but at last it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

Tom broke into a huge grin, clapping and cheering for his friend. Jeff looked delighted.

Another round of names passed, and then at last Professor Merrythought called out, "Riddle, Tom!"

Tom walked forwards, smiling confidently despite his nerves. He caught Jeff's eye, and felt better immediately when his friend flashed him a genuine grin.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the stool, pulling the Sorting Hat onto his head.

"Hmmm," said a little voice in his ear, and Tom jumped. "Difficult. Lots of talent here… quite an outstanding mind… oh, look at that. Such ambition. Well, there's only one place for you – SLYTHERIN!"

The table second to right applauded, and Tom caught sight of Jeff's excited face grinning hugely up at him.

Grinning too, Tom made his way down the stairs, settling down next to his friend.

Right after Tom came "Sharplin, Helaine." Both Jeff and Tom groaned deeply as the hat boomed "SLYTHERIN!"

"It was just too good to last," Jeff moaned to Tom. "We both get the best house – wonderful! Now we're saddled with _her."_

He gestured at Helaine, scowling as she sat down next to the other new Slytherins and began chatting to them immediately.

"Yeah," Tom said, but he couldn't feel too bad about things. After all, he was going to be a _wizard! _

_And a jolly good one too, _he promised himself there and then.

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**A/N: that concludes Chapter 5! Hope you guys liked it. If you did, please do leave me a review! They're great for inspiration :)**

**See you guys this time again next Friday**


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